For the Dreams of Youth
by EponineOnMyOwnThenardier
Summary: "Everything about the boy seemed to shout carefully planned chaos and disarray." An AU in which Galileo and Scaramouche meet during school.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Hi everyone! This is an idea that resulted from me looking through the AU tag of .com . It was originally going to be a one shot, but I think it's going to be a multichapter fic with an alternate meeting between Gazza and Scaramocuhe that follows through the end of WWRY. ANYWHO- here's my disclaimer! I do not own WWRY. I do not own the characters from the show. I do not have any association with Ben Elton or Queen. Hell, I don't even own this idea, it's from a freaking prompt. But, I do own the words, and, if I create any OCs, I own those too! As with any story on here, reviews are greatly appreciated, as it lets me know I have an audience and what people do or do not like! **

Whenever someone mentioned Hell, all I could think of was high school. All I could picture in my mind was someday dying and forever being condemned to wander the halls of the Virtual School, surrounded by the Ga Ga Kids, with their vinyl clothing in an array of pastels and their cellphones and laptops constantly blaring that crap that Globalsoft's own little drone bees mindlessly programmed. Maybe throw in some flames lining the corridors. Then the image was perfect. Hell on Planet Mall and here I was, trapped there.

We were nearing the end of the term. I should feel elated, shouldn't I? After all, this was it. Just a few more weeks and I'd be done. Graduated. The problem was, I knew the future wasn't any brighter. Downloading my diploma into my laptop wouldn't mean that I was free. It wouldn't mean that there was any less control over my life. Rather, I'd get sucked further into the Globalsoft corporation. I'd have to pick some Ga Ga job and I'd be expected to try to blend into the crowd. The thought was sickening. It was hard not to wonder how the world had ended up in this state, all of it under the control of Killer Queen. There was no where to escape to, no place her power didn't reach…

I was pulled from my thoughts from a collision with another person. Expecting a garishly dressed Ga Ga, I looked up, surprised to see a boy I didn't recognize. He must have transferred from another class or another school or something. All I knew was that he wasn't one of those intolerable boys-r-us, duh-brained Boy Zone Boys. At least, he didn't look like it. Rather than the sleek precision associated with the majority of the citizens of Planet Mall, everything about this boy seemed to shout carefully planned chaos and disarray. His hair was stylistically messy, his jeans contained a few tears that he'd disregarded, and his thin, white tshirt was covered by a dark leather jacket. His brown eyes swiveled down to look at me and conveyed as much shock as I felt as he looked me over.

"S-Sorry," He stuttered, averting his eyes after a moment.

"No, it was my fault. I should pay attention…." I mumbled in response, apologizing for something for once in my life.

I could hear giggling from behind me and felt my jaw clenching. There could only be one source of that infuriating noise, the same Ga Ga Girls who constantly made me regret ever being born.

" Look girls," The one who seemed to be their leader said, voice nauseatingly sweet, despite the fact that whatever she was about to say was far from it. "I see the freaks have met. Isn't that sweet?"

"_Sickeningly _so," one with cotton candy blue hair replied. She placed extra emphasis on the word sickeningly in order to convey the fact that, in reality, she was disgusted by our existence.

My fists clenched now as I counted to ten in my head and took deep breaths. I could tell this boy wanted to say something, but he seemed to be at a loss for words.

At that moment, the door to the class room before us opened an the queue of students moved forward, everyone making their way into the Technical Studies classrooms and sitting down. I placed my plain black backpack on the floor and watched as the boy I'd spoken so briefly to made his way to stand beside the teacher's desk and waited as roll was called before handing a sheet of paper to the older woman, which was briefly glanced over before he was given a flashdrive from which to download the class text and directed to sit in the desk placed in the farthest corner of the room from mine. My eyes traveled over to the empty desk right beside me before journeying back over to him as I sighed. Of course, just my luck, the school maintained its hope of making a normal girl over me, they wouldn't have this new boy sit beside me and give me a reprieve from the Ga Ga World.

After brief instruction was given, we all stood and began to collect the supplies for our final projects, which we'd begun work on the previous week. Mine was a radio, simple enough, but far more advanced than anything my classmates had chosen to work on. I'd expected to complete it today, but currently my mind was so far from me that I couldn't seem to get a single piece properly into place. Rather, I set my screwdriver down and turned to look at the new boy.

Many of our classmates had moved their desks together and begun to chatter as they worked. Looking at the crowd between us, I couldn't help but feel as if we were two small, lonely islands, separated by not only the ocean, but also a mass of colorful, garish, obnoxious land. I couldn't really tell what his project was. Or, rather, what he intended it to be. He'd grabbed some fairly simple supplies, and I wasn't really sure if whatever he made out of them could actually be considered anything 'technical'. Silently, I watched as he picked up the empty lunch tin he'd gathered from the table in the front of the class and began to turn it over in his hands, observing it from every angle he could come up with. Then, he set it own once more, empty end up, and picked up a reel of plastic string and a bottle of super glue. He moved almost as if he were in a daze, carefully super gluing six lengths against the string so that they were pulled tightly across the top. Once he'd done that, he set the glue down and stared at the box in silence, waiting for it to dry.

That couldn't be it, could it? His grand project, worth a third of his final project was nothing but an old lunch box with plastic string attached? I was shocked. What was with this boy? Had he lost his marbles? Turning momentarily to the front of the class, I noticed that the teacher was also staring in his direction. In contrast to my shock, she seemed almost angry. I noticed her lean in toward him and turned quickly to watch him pick up the metal and plastic contraption. He continued to stare at it for a moment, situating the thing between his chest and one of his hands, then simply brought an index finger down across the strings. The result was a soft twang that carried to me over the chatter of the Ga Ga Kids and, for some reason, made my heart rate pick up.

A mere moment later, there was a loud scraping sound as our instructor pushed her chair back from her desk and rose to her feet, causing all of the students, myself included, to turn toward the front, a heavy silence falling over the room. She looked angrier now, and all of that anger was directed to the black haired boy in the far corner.

" Galileo Figaro!" She exclaimed, causing him to shrink back in his seat.

"Y-Yes?" He stammered in response, eyes widening a bit.

"What are you doing?"

"I-I don't k-kn-know…."

"Who taught you to do that?"

"Do what?" He exclaimed, genuinely confused.

"To attach string to an old lunch container like that! To pluck it!"

"N-No one," He replied. " I d-don't know why I did it, I j-just…" He trailed off, voice getting softer. "I just did…"

The woman's eyes narrowed as she stared down at him, seemingly evaluating his claim. The tense silence between them seemed to stretch on forever before she finally reached down and picked up the old box. "Regardless, this is not an acceptable project. You'll begin a new one." She turned on her heel and walked back toward her desk, pausing momentarily beside mine. "You, get to work!" She snapped, noticing that my eyes were still fixed across the room on Galileo.

"Sorry," I mumbled, turning and fixing my eyes on my own radio.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Well, honestly a bit embarrassed. I just noticed that, in the last chapter, the teacher called Gazza "Galileo" instead of by his email address. An error on my part. Won't happen anymore though! …Hopefully… :P Anyway, still don't own WWRY! **

I hadn't expected to hear the chair beside me move. Honestly, I had been so unprepared for the sound of the metal legs of the desk made when they scraped against the tile floor as a body lowered into the seat that I jumped ever so slightly. I could swear I heard the boy chuckle at that and I tensed visibly at that before turning to look at him. "Yes? Do you want something?"

"Y-you looked lonely," he replied, face the vision of innocence.

"Yeah?" I replied, rolling my eyes. "Busy's more like it."

He sat there in silence for a few moments in response, tapping his fingers against his desktop. "I just thought you would want to talk to me. We're different from the rest of them." He jerked his head toward the crowd of Ga Ga Kids behind him as he spoke, trying to accent his point as he gestured to their clothing before gesturing to our own as well.

"Right now I want to get my project done and not have it taken away. Y'know, so I can graduate." That shut him up. I glanced up for the briefest of moments, reaching for the screwdriver I'd abandoned, and noticed the sheepish look on his face. "You should probably get to work on something. Wouldn't want to be stuck here another year, would you?"

His cheeks were practically burning now. "I'm not sure what to make. "

"As if I couldn't tell that already,"I mumbled before clearing my throat. "Guess you'd better look through the text then."

He nodded, almost as if the thought hadn't occurred to him, and pulled out his laptop, slipping the USB into it and beginning to scroll through the text for the class. For several minutes silence stretched between us and I focused on my radio, tinkering with it carefully, trying to make small, precise adjustments to different bits and pieces.

"What's your name,then?" I asked, looking over at him.

"Galileo Figaro,"He replied, as if I hadn't heard the earlier misnomer.

"Your real name," I snapped back, giving him a serious look.

"You mean my email address?"

I couldn't help a sigh as I looked over at him. Why did he seem like the type that asked too many questions? "That's what you got when you were born, isn't it? Or are you some kind of special case?"

" ," he finally replied, looking as if the words burned rolling off of his tongue. "Yours?"

" ," was my dry response. I looked at him, watching as he made a face, and I could feel my eyes narrow. "What's that about then?" I challenged, gesturing to his expression.

"It's just… a bit… b-boring," he responded in what appeared to be his signature stutter.

"Oh?" I snorted a bitter laugh, glaring at him now. "Well, for your information, Galileo Figaro's a bit… well… _crap_."

He frowned, looking at me for silence in a moment as I turned my attention to my nearly finished radio once more, determined not to let this boy interrupt my schedule for completion. "W-well, what would yo-you call me, th-then?" He asked in a softer voice, placing a hand on my desk and clearly trying to gain my full attention once more.

I shrugged, keeping my eyes locked on my project as I gave myself the tiniest fraction of a second to think before blurting out the first thing to pop into my mind. "Gazza." I could see his expression change from the corner of my eyes; he didn't like the name. For some reason, that observation sent a sort of thrill through me and I grinned a bit. "So, Gazza, you should probably be picking a new project idea. "

He didn't say anything. Rather, he was silent for a few moments before saying, "If you're going to call me G-g-g-g-gazza, then I get to get to call you s-s-s-something else too!"

I placed my screw driver on my desk once more, looking at him and lifting an eyebrow. " You have a nickname for me already?"

"A f-f-few ideas, a-actually," he corrected me. "I've been thinking about it."

"You've been thinking about it?!" He gave an eager nod in response. "You've only just met me!"

"I knew I would though!" He paused, waiting for something. I wasn't really sure what. I had no idea what reaction he was expecting from me, so I just raised a hand, gesturing for him to continue. "I have these dreams you s-see!" I had to force myself not to groan at that. Dreams, one of my absolute least favorite things to talk about. "D-dreams about words- a-and sounds! W-words and sounds together! A-And sometimes th-there are p-people there too!" I just stared, truly speechless. "I'm m-m-mad, you see."

"Super," I replied, word drawn out and voice dripping with sarcasm which, based on his confused expression, he didn't get. "What is it you want to call me then?"

"Scaramouche!" For a moment I just stared at him, waiting to hear that it was a joke and he was ready to tell me his real idea though. He wasn't joking though. He was beaming, as if this was the greatest thing anyone had ever come up with.

"Scaramouche?!"

"Well, like I s-said, there were some others-"

"What were they?"

"Long Tall Sally, " he began, looking me in the eyes as he continued to list these names of his, "Lucy in the sky with diamonds, or Fat bottomed girl." He was waiting for me to say something.

"…Yeah, I'll take Scaramouche," I replied as the bell rang. We both stood, packing our laptops and personal belongings into our backpacks before I took my project and supplies to the front to be locked away by the teacher.

"Thought so," he responded, leading me toward the door. "Well, Scaramouche, see you at lunch?" He asked, pausing to look at me. " I-I mean, provided your friends won't mind."

I couldn't help but to look at him like he was crazy. "I've never had any friends."

I watched a look of annoyance cross his face. Apparently he'd meant it as some sort of a compliment that only he'd understood. "You amaze me…"

"Always thought I might like one though…" I was surprised at how honest I was being now, at the way I admitted to being tired of being alone. A smile spread across his face in response.

"R-Really?!" The smile grew into a stupid grin as I nodded and he let out a light laugh. "This is so great!"

" Yeah. Cool. _We're friendssss_."

He ignored my sarcasm once more, turning to head to his next class and calling over his shoulder to me. " See you at lunch, Scaramouche!"

" Yeah," I replied, unaware of the fact that I was standing in the middle of the corridor, blocking the flow of traffic and being constantly being jostled by annoyed Ga Ga Kids as I watched him walk away. "Later, Gazza…"


End file.
